


A Beautiful Friendship

by Haywire



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Backstory, Friendship, Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haywire/pseuds/Haywire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal explores Mombasa post-mission and discovers a new supply which might help with her sleepless and dreamless nights, as well as a new supplier and possibly a new friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beautiful Friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cordialcount](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordialcount/gifts).



> Set several years before the movie takes place, where a carefree, globetrotting Mal meets Yusuf for the first time and forms a friendship.
> 
> Written for cordialcount for Not Prime Time 2013.

Mombasa was a long way from Mal’s native France. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up there. She’d been there to do a job, of course, that much she knew, but how her life had progressed to that point in time was something she couldn’t exactly describe. She had wanted to see the world, or as much of it as she could afford to see, both in the monetarial and the temporal sense. The former used to be a problem and now was not; the latter was never a problem, at least it hadn’t been in her mind, and now it was an unknown variable.

It all started with experimentation when a friend of hers had invited her to try dream sharing. She was immediately hooked, and displayed a preternatural talent for it. Her friend introduced her to a contact who further opened her mind to the possibilities of extraction, and within six months she was doing her first attempt at corporate espionage. Many more followed, until she’d become a highly sought after expert in the field. She traveled across the globe for outrageous sums of money to perform her job. Extraction became her life.

The only problem was: extraction became her _life._

Mal had been experimenting with dream sharing for years, so much so that she was now unable to dream on her own without artificial aids. Sleep itself was hard to come by without assistance, the only ‘easy’ way for her to rest naturally being through sheer exhaustion. Even then she’d lapse into dreamless state for only a handful of hours before waking, which often lead to her seeking sedative slumber once again.

She had no idea of what the long term effects of such behaviour might be, nor did anyone else, for that matter; dream sharing and its associated compounds were still a nascent science and there simply wasn’t enough data to crunch on such things. Mal couldn’t stop at any rate, no matter what concerns she held about her future health. She’d gone through the looking glass and there was no turning back.

Tonight had been no exception. Unable to sleep, and running low on her sedative reserves, Mal had opted to go for a walk instead. She’d ended up at Kilindini Harbour, walking along the harbour front. The waters were as dark as the open sky above them, and looked to run nearly as deep. The harbour was renowned for its depth, in fact, and Mal drank in its beauty and mystery while sitting on a nearby bench. Cruise ships parked in the deep harbour laid dormant, most of the cabin lights either dimmed, turned off, or covered by curtains. Guards were stationed by the long gangplanks leading onto the vessels, and Mal wondered just how many passengers were coming and going at that late hour.

A flicker of movement on the ground caught her eye. Near her foot a flyer twitched in the slight breeze, an advertisement for one of Mombasa’s many clubs in the north part of the city. The ad sought to entice travellers to explore the city’s night life, and as Mal looked around there were several other similar posters placed strategically around the harbour area.

Bending down, she scooped up the flyer at her feet and examined it more closely. It was promoting a 24 hour club that was part restaurant, part bar, and part dance floor. The idea of a such a place intrigued her, and since she wasn’t likely to sleep any time soon anyway, she decided to check it out.

It only took a few minutes for her to track down a taxi cab looking for a fare. With the high number of cruise ships that passed in and out of the port, coupled with the night life in Mombasa’s northern shoreline, there was always a cab available for would be fares. Mal brought the flyer with her, just in case the driver didn’t know what club she was talking about, but as soon as she said her destination the cabbie nodded and immediately headed for the place.

It didn’t take long for them to get there, since all of the traffic that was on the road at that hour seemed to be heading in the same direction: toward the north shoreline. Once she arrived she paid the cab driver, including a generous tip, and headed inside the building. There was a line up outside, however that was for the dance floor portion of the building and that wasn’t of interest to Mal. Instead she headed for the bar.

She found an empty seat at one end and ordered a drink. While waiting for her order she spun slowly in her seat, taking in the atmosphere and clientele of the bar. It was still mostly full even that late at night, though it was unusually quiet for the number of people inside. That suited Mal just fine, however; if she’d been looking for loud she’d have been in the dance club portion, or would have gone to another place. No, the soft sounds of conversation and the clinking of glasses was soothing to her.

Slipping her money to the bartender with a nod, she took the proffered drink and took a sip. On those all too frequent nights when sleep eluded her, alcohol had often been her consolation prize. The brandy she’d ordered was a new variety, one Mal had not tried before, and she was pleasantly surprised with its quality.

As she sipped from her glass, a stranger approached her, leaning backwards against the bar and casually turning his head to her.

“Let me guess. Can’t sleep, am I right?”

“ _Non._ ” she replied, eyes not leaving her glass. She was hoping her choice of language would chase off the man if he was attempting to pick her up.

“ _Francais, oui?_ ” The man raised an eyebrow, turning the rest of his body towards Mal.

Before he could say anything else Mal looked up, raising a hand to stop him from continuing. “Let me save you some time, Lothario. Not interested.” She took another mouthful of her brandy. “ _Merci._ ”

“ _Madamoiselle, s’il vous plait,_ ” he began, holding up both of his hands in surrender. “You’ve got me all wrong, I swear. I was just inquiring whether you were having difficulty sleeping, I promise.” He folded a hand over his heart, though his grin betrayed him. “

“That, quite frankly, is none of your business.” The thought of throwing the remnants of her glass in the stranger’s face crossed her mind, however that would’ve been a waste of good - and expensive - liquor, she soberly realized. “And let me guess, you know just the trick to help me sleep, yes?”

“Well...” he started, backpedaling when Mal started to rise to her feet. “No, no, I am sorry. Look, here, this is what I meant.” The man reached into his back pocket and withdrew a business card, handing it over to Mal.

She snatched the card from his hand after a moment’s hesitation, not taking her eyes off of him until he withdrew his hand once more. When he pulled back she spared a glance at the card. It was nearly all white, the only writing on it an address written in small black font in one of its corners.

“Is this your address? Because-”

“It’s not my address, it’s a business. See?” He reached out before Mal could move away, tapping the opposite side of the card. She turned it over and saw a familiar logo embossed in the center. Mal had seen the logo before, on certain cases she’d used in extraction missions. In fact, the most recent job she’d done there in Mombasa had used equipment from whomever or wherever this card originated.

“I have to go.” she said, finishing off the remainder of her drink and getting to her feet.

“I shall accompany you. It is far too late for a woman to-” the stranger started, stopping when Mal grabbed his hand and applied pressure to it, pushing his palm back and causing him to stop short while catching his breath.

“That is not necessary, I assure you. _Bon nuit, monsieur._ ” She let go of his hand and he immediately cradled it between his legs, still struggling to catch his breath. Mal smirked as she calmly walked away, smacking the business card against her open palm.

Cabs were waiting outside the clubs, more than there had been at Kilindini Harbour, so it didn’t take long for Mal to flag one down. She passed the card to the driver and within ten minutes she was at the address. She hadn’t expected it to be open that late, and it didn’t look like it was, but she’d been curious to find its location. Besides, she didn’t have anywhere to be and it wasn’t like she’d be sleeping anytime soon, so it didn’t hurt to explore a little. After paying the cabbie - tipping largely again, of course - Mal exited the vehicle to get a closer look at the building.

Out of curiosity she approached the main entrance and placed her hand on the door handle. To her shock it was unlocked, and she pulled it out, frowning as she walked inside. There was another set of doors inside and she walked through those too, entering a long, rectangular room full of shelves. Each shelf was jam packed with various jars and bottles of different sizes, sprinkled liberally with dust. The fluorescent light source overhead winked intermittently, causing her to squint until her eyes adjusted to it.

“Good evening. May I help you?” asked a voice from behind a nearby counter. The man standing there was smiling at Mal but she could tell he was studying her, trying to divine her intentions. Was she a lost tourist, a curious vacationer, or a potential client?

“Good evening,” she replied, continuing to enter the room. Mal raised a hand, trailing a finger along the edge of a nearby shelf with it while holding up the white card the stranger from the bar had given her in her other hand. “I was lead to believe you may be able to help me?”

“Ah,” said the man, his eyes resolving their examination of her. Potential client it was. “I may be able to, depending on what it is you seek.”

“Dreams are what I seek, or at least some peaceful slumber.” Mal replied with a small smile. “This symbol tells me you can provide this, yes?” She tapped the back of the card with a fingernail as she came to a stop in front of the counter.

“That I can do, yes.” He paused again for a moment, rubbing his chin as he thought of how to phrase his next question. “Forgive my impertinence, ma’am, but-”

“Mal. It’s just Mal, please.” she interrupted.

“Mal. And I am Yusuf.” He offered his hand to her, and Mal returned the gesture. “Forgive the intrusion, Mal, but I must ask: you are familiar with the process, I take it?” Yusuf presumed she must have been, given her familiarity with the business card and logo, and the fact that she had the card in the first place, but it never hurt to ask.

“ _Oui._ ” she simply replied, laying the card on the counter. “Very, very familiar. Too familiar, one might say.” Her eyes met his and he nodded almost imperceptibly, understanding what she meant.

“Then right this way, Mal. I believe I will be able to help you.” He gestured towards a stairwell that lead deep into the building, reaching for a light switch as he did so. It was poorly lit and the lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling swayed back and forth, throwing their shadows back and forth the walls of the stairway as they descended into the cool earth.

When they reached the bottom, Mal gasped at what she saw. There were dozens of people stretched out across a gigantic, cavernous area, all hooked up to equipment and in various stages of dreaming.

“ _Mon dieu..._ ” was all she could utter.

“As you can see, Mal, you will not be the first person whom I am helping.” Yusuf replied with a grin.

“Are they all... at the same time?” Her eyebrows rose up as she looked to Yusuf for the answer to a question she couldn’t properly phrase.

“Not dream sharing, no. Not all together. But they are all sleeping, and dreaming, that I can promise.” He walked over to a nearby shelf, taking down a vial from it and tapping it. “This, Mal, is my own personal compound. It’s not completed, not fully at any rate, but it works and works well.” To demonstrate he walked over to a sleeping man, lifting his arm up a few feet and letting it fall onto his chest.

Mal flinched at the sound of flesh on flesh and expected the man to sit up with a start, perhaps even a shout, but blinked in surprise when he didn’t budge at all. Yusuf simply grinned and returned the vial back to the shelf.

“You designed this?” When he nodded in answer Mal shook her head, crossing her arms as she looked around the room once more. “This, Yusuf, this is incredible.”

“Thank you. I...” He caught himself from saying anything further for the moment. Mal glanced over at the shelf and noticed a framed portrait sitting there, of what looked like Yusuf and a young woman, smiling at the camera. The picture framed seemed to have accumulated nearly as much dust as some of the jars and bottles she’d seen upstairs. “I am quite proud of my invention, to be sure.”

Mal smiled at him, this time assessing him for herself instead of the other way around. After a few heartbeats she continued. “Your solution, I believe I had the pleasure of using it earlier.” She had to stop and think what day it was. “Yesterday, to be accurate.”

“Ah,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Yes, I do believe you did. And you found it... agreeable?”

“I did, yes, most so.” It had been a relatively easy job, but the sedative had been one of the best she’d used, if not the best, which was saying a lot after how many types and varieties Mal had used over the years.

“Would it be terribly unkind of me to ask you for some feedback regarding the same, Mal?” Yusuf asked hopefully. “I am constantly aiming to perfect my formula and the more feedback I can acquire, the better I can do so, and-”

“Say no more. I will assist you in any way that I can.” Mal said with a smile. “Of course, the more experience I have with it the better the assistance I can provide...”

“Of course.” He laughed at her proposition, and nodded in agreement. “At the risk of sounding corny, I do believe that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“I do believe you are correct, Yusuf.” She smiled and shook his hand, then surveyed the room once more, excited about her new discovery. It promised to be a mutually beneficial enterprise indeed.


End file.
